


People Are Allowed to Bake Brownies Now

by thalia_cinder_03



Series: All of Stucky [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Acceptance, Brownies, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Metaphors, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sort Of, Stucky - Freeform, first kiss in a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26787031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalia_cinder_03/pseuds/thalia_cinder_03
Summary: Steve and Bucky have a cute, safety analogy for their relationship, and this is the first time they've really spoken since the forties---------Just a cute one shot abt acceptance now vs then
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Series: All of Stucky [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933795
Comments: 7
Kudos: 164





	People Are Allowed to Bake Brownies Now

**Author's Note:**

> Idk I thought this was cute
> 
> Also I just wrote two tests and they were stressful af and I couldn't write cause I had to study which sucked, but I'm back so we're all good :) + I don't think I failed !

Steve tapped his foot, staring into Bucky’s cell. Bucky was sitting with his head down, elbows resting on his knees. Steve could read his emotions and mannerisms anywhere, at any time, he was stressed. It wasn’t fair, being trapped in that box of a cell all day and all night, under those lights. They wouldn’t even turn them off when he slept. “It’s for security purposes,” they’d said, and Steve had just rolled his eyes. 

It hurt Steve so much to even be down here. They wouldn’t let him talk to Bucky “for safety purposes,” and he couldn’t just sit there and watch him cooped up in there, so he had resorted to not visiting. It hurt him just as much, but at least he didn’t have to sit there and watch as they prodded Bucky’s worst memories, performed their procedures and experiments, trying to get him sane again. He couldn’t do that anymore. He hated himself for it but he couldn't, so when Fury asked him to help them with one of the procedures, he was extremely hesitant to agree. 

“It’s just simple memory questions and a few more analysis questions,” Fury said to Steve after bombarding him with the question while he was at the gym. “We think he’ll answer more honestly if they come from you.”

Steve threw another punch at the punching bag, knocking it straight off its chain. He chuckled sarcastically. “You really think he’s dumb enough to know you aren’t watching him?”

“Rogers-,”

“Your scientists aren’t very smart if that’s the case.” He got up to grab another punching bag and clipped it into the chain hanging from the ceiling. 

“Look,” Fury said sternly, not bothering with the pleasantries anymore. “It’s a chance to talk to him. Isn’t that what you wanted? This might be your only shot for a while if we can’t fix whatever Hydra did to him.”

“He doesn’t need your fixing,” Steve argued, throwing an assortment of punches. “He’s not broken, he’s scared.” Despite his argument however, he had no comeback for Fury’s comment about it being the only chance he had to speak to Bucky. That’s how he ended up in the observation room adjacent to Bucky’s cell for the first time in weeks, talking to a doctor who was warning him about potential signs of aggression, and if he noticed them, he should get out of there. Steve wasn’t really listening.

He had been up all night, wondering what he should say between questions. What did Bucky desperately need to know? He didn’t want to bring up their friends or families, almost all of them had passed, Bucky’s younger sister most recently. He drilled it into his brain not to mention that Bucky had basically just missed her. Steve had gone to her funeral, and he’d barely been able to hold it together. Her face, her eyes, her smile, they were all he had had left of Bucky, or so he thought, he couldn’t cope with the fact that he had just lost them forever. He didn’t want to mention anything to do with Hydra for sure, and he wasn’t sure exactly what Bucky remembered so that ruled out talking about the Starks, not that he was planning on bringing them up anyway. Natasha had been in there, maybe he could tell her she was one of his friends, that he could trust her, or at least trust her more than anyone else who came in and out of there. 

Then he came to a realization. There was something so huge he had been forgetting about, something Bucky wouldn’t know, because of course Hydra wouldn’t make telling him a priority. He laughed a little to himself when he realized how he could get around saying it in front of a bunch of scientists and agents that Bucky didn’t know, and certainly wouldn’t trust with that information. They were going to be extremely confused. Steve slept a little easier after that, falling asleep about a half hour later, certain that it was going to be okay.

He had woken up with none of the calm composure he went to sleep with. He was all jittery and nervous, not an emotion that many got to see on Captain America. And now here he was, file in hand, being given the rundown on what to do. And despite being told directly what to do, he had no idea what to do.

“Door’s gonna open soon,” Natasha warned from near the control panel. “Ready, Cap?”

Steve swallowed his fears, pursed his lips and gave a tight, controlled nod. He made his way to the door, that wasn’t really a door, more of a force field if anything. There was an earpiece on him, just in case something went down, though from the looks of Bucky, that was highly unlikely. The blue light it emitted dimmed, and Steve stepped through, into Bucky’s cell for the very first time. He immediately felt attacked by the harsh lighting, and cursed SHIELD for being like this. He didn’t care if Bucky was technically a security risk, no one could live like this and feel okay. 

“I don’t wanna talk anymore,” Bucky said through a hollow voice, not looking up at who had entered the room. He was sitting in almost the exact same position Steve had left him in weeks ago, the only evidence he had moved being the slight shift, a few inches away to the left, away from the door. “Go away.”

“Buck,” Steve said, heart sinking at the sound of Bucky’s voice, which reminded him of a kicked puppy. 

Bucky’s head jerked up towards him. There were bags under his eyes, the bright, dynamic blue diminished to a colour that reminded him less of a clear ocean and more of a dirty puddle. His beard was growing in a bit, rough and scrappy like it had after a few weeks of war. Bucky had always complained about not being able to grow a beard quick enough, and never having that rough stubble look, but it did come in handy when he didn’t have access to a razor for weeks. “Steve,” he said, sounding exactly like he had when Steve had rescued him from that Hydra base during the war. The same astonishment and disbelief was there, though his voice was still too hollow and empty. “Stevie,” he sighed, softly, the tightness in his body slowly exiting his body. 

“Hey, Buck,” he said, taking a seat on a foam block that they’d been using as a safe version of a chair. “Nice to see ya.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Bucky replied, joking a bit and releasing his shoulders. “I asked to see you before. Dude with the eyepatch told me no. Redhead told me no. People in the white coats told me no. Thought maybe you’d never come.”

“Yeah, well, they told me no, too,” Steve said, scared that Bucky might have thought he didn’t want to come talk to him. “I think I got through to them.” There was a small  _ pffft _ in his ear from Natasha but he ignored it. “How’re you doing?”

Bucky gave an unconvincing chuckle and shook his head. “Couldn’t be better.”

Steve pursed his lips, wondering how to respond to such a clear cry for help. It’s not like he could just break Bucky out of here, could he? He went to fidget with his fingers when he remembered the file of questions in his hand. “I’m supposed to ask you some things. I know you don’t wanna, but I’m here for you if it’s hard.”

Bucky gave a tight smile. “Okay.”

“So,” he started, “you know your name?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him and grinned for the first time, which drove Steve over the moon. It was nice to see him having a little fun with this after watching him with the scientists, and watching him sit all tense when he was alone. “Oh wow, we’re starting there?” 

“Yep,” Steve grinned back.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he stated. “You call me Bucky.”

“Mhmm,” Steve agreed, just realizing now that he didn’t know if he was supposed to correct him if he was wrong, or make him think he was always right. “Date of birth?”

“10th of March, 1917.”

“Mom’s name?”

“Winnifred Barnes.”

“Dad’s name?”

“George Barnes. Feels weird to tell you this, you know this.”

Steve shrugged and moved on with the questions. They all seemed like basic what do you remember questions, nothing about mental state, so they were easy. He remembered his parents, his siblings, where they went to school, where they lived. Everything was checking out. They finished the first page with no problems. It was then Steve remembered his own objective with this, and asked a question that wasn’t on the sheet. “Hey,” he started, “remember when we used to bake brownies?”

A few expressions ran across Bucky’s face and for a moment Steve was worried he didn’t remember. The idea hadn’t occurred to him, that maybe Bucky didn’t remember their twenties, just the early stuff. Maybe he remembered baking brownies, but he just didn’t remember what it meant? Was he thinking too literally? Steve’s fears were alleviated when Bucky landed on a smirk. “Mhmm,” he answered. “Is that on the page?”

“Nah,” Steve said, smiling with relief. “Just wanted to make sure you remembered. When this is over, I think we should try our hand at baking again.” 

“I’m up for that,” Bucky said, and it was the first moment where he really sounded like Bucky. That hollow voice had disappeared as they had gone back and forth. Now he was really talking with Bucky. His Bucky. 

Steve set the file down on his lap, closing it with certainty.  _ “Steve,” _ Natasha said in his ear,  _ “what are you doing?”  _ Steve ignored her once again. 

“Y’know, people bake brownies a lot more now.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side. “How d’you know that?” he asked. “Got another baking partner I need to compete with?”

“No!” Steve said loudly, probably a bit too loudly for this metaphor. “No,” he tried again. “It’s just, people are more okay with it. They talk about it, it’s pretty acceptable, ‘round here.”

_ “Steve,” _ Natasha interrupted again,  _ “What the fuck are you talking about?” _

“It is?” Bucky asked, heavy confusion in his voice. “Acceptable, like people who…” he paused for a minute, obviously trying to find a way to continue the metaphor. “Like people who bake cookies?”

“Depends on who you ask really,” Steve answered, finding that describing the state of America’s viewpoint on ‘baking brownies’ was rather hard. “Maybe not among most people closest to our real age, but with most of the younger ones, yeah it’s okay. Some people are skeptical about it, but my friends are all pretty good.”

_ “Steve are you talking about…” _ Natasha started, but Steve was getting sick of this so he pressed the off button on the earpiece while Bucky tried to understand what had happened since the forties.

“Oh,” Bucky said, and Steve could see the gears turning in his brain. “Oh,” he repeated, and Steve could see realization in his eyes. “So, do people know you, umm, bake brownies?”

Steve chuckled a bit, knowing that this metaphor was not gonna hold up for much longer. “A few people. That redhead girl, the one who comes in here sometimes, her name’s Natasha, she knows. A few scientist friends I know. A few more agents.” That was his best description of the Avengers without mentioning Stark by name or bringing up the whole giant green rage monster and thunder god thing. That might make Bucky stop believing him all together. 

“And they’re all cool?” Bucky asked, and Steve noticed his eyes flickering between Steve’s eyes and lips. He smirked a bit at that. 

“Mhmm.” 

“So, if I was to, let’s say…” Bucky started, clearly trying to find a way to continue this metaphor, even though he was pretty sure they both knew the jig was up. “Let’s say, I’m not gonna bake brownies right now, but if I just turned on the oven? Would that be alright?”

“Yeah,” Steve grinned. “Yeah you can.”

Bucky stood up from the bed for what Steve believed might have been the first time in weeks, and made his way towards Steve, who was still on his foam chair. He leaned down, that familiar gleam on his face, glitter in his eyes. Steve let his eyes fall shut when he felt Bucky’s hand on the side of his face, thumb running across his cheekbone, so soft despite all the strength he possessed.

When their lips met for the first time in around seventy years, Steve felt himself more at home than he had since he’d come out of the ice. The softness was there, the vulnerability, everything Steve had bottled up since he’d last seen Bucky, since he’d last gotten to hold him. He reached up, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck, holding on with the fear that he might lose him again, which he wasn’t ever gonna allow. He wasn’t getting away this time. 

After a minute or so, Bucky pulled away. “I think you might have bungled this interview, Stevie.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, looking back towards the force field door. “I think so.” He sighed, not from fear of what he would face out there, but from knowing he would never hear the end of it from Natasha. She was probably laughing at their little analogy right now. “I think I gotta go,” he said, making no motion towards the door. 

“You’ll come back soon, right?” Bucky asked, all seriousness. 

“Yeah, I will,” he answered, leaving one last soft kiss on Bucky’s lips. God, he’d missed that. “I’ll make sure of it.” 

Bucky made his way back towards his bed, leaning back on his hands after he sat down. “Go on,” he smirked. “You know I love to watch you walk away.” 

“Oh, shut up you jerk,” Steve blushed, but he didn’t really mean it. He’d missed this, more than he’d ever realized.  _ I love you, _ he mouthed, now more aware that everyone knew what he meant when he spoke. 

Bucky smiled, and mouthed back, _ I love you too, punk.  _

Steve made his way to the door, taking one last look at Bucky before it opened. He stepped out into the adjacent room, and was instantly met with Natasha’s smirk. “I fucking called it,” she said. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved her off, dropping the file on a table and making his way out, but she was on his heels. 

“Oh, you are telling me everything,” she called after him. “You can run but you can’t hide, Rogers!”

Steve tried to pretend he was annoyed when she caught up with him, but it was hard. Everything was just that much better, knowing Bucky was waiting for him, still feeling where Steve’s arms had wrapped around his neck, and where his lips had left his. It was just that much better. 


End file.
